The Art of Blackingout
by OliviaR5Warbler
Summary: WARNING: Mentions of blackout drinking and underage drinking. Inspired by John Mulaney's Blackout Drinking stories, a story where some of the crew sit around and tell stories about when they were younger and may have blacked out or not remembered the night before.


It had been months since the crew of the Discovery had had any actual shore leave, but when you're the quickest ship Star Fleet has to offer, you're forever 'on call.' Hugh was beginning to understand how Paul had felt all those times when his pager would bleep during one of their fleeting moments together. He, of course, understood the necessity, but sometimes it was nice to spend time together or with friends without being interrupted. Especially now they were getting their relationship back on course.

Saru had put his foot down to Star Fleet, stating the need for the ship's external checks and repairs, as well as Paul's own well-being as a reason for them to have some time to recuperate. The crew had been through so much recently, with no knowing what was around the corner. Hugh had thought that if Saru hadn't put his foot down he'd have gotten Tracy to say something as CMO.

The large group were enjoying a drink together in one of the stations lounge bars, they were spread over a few coffee tables with couches and mismatching armchairs around. Hugh tuned back into what Tilly and Jett were talking about, they were discussing how long it had been since they were really able to relax, for many on the Discovery, Hugh suspected that time had been before the war. "I can't even remember the last time me and some friends sat around and just had a drink," Tilly remarked, sipping from her glass of red wine. "Probably that party where that guy put us in a time-loop," she said thinking.

"Ugh," Paul groaned, "I remember that, for me that was one very long day," he rolled his eyes from beside Hugh. Hugh remembered that night too. After his shift he'd gone there, expecting to meet Paul and when he didn't show, he found him out cold in their bed with a note promising to explain where he had disappeared off to.

"I remember that, there were a fair few people in Sick Bay the next morning asking for the hangover hypos because they had a bit too much in their celebrations," Tracy put in fondly, from the couch across from Hugh and Paul. "I think that was the first morning you hadn't sprinted through the door right before your shift began," she teased to Hugh.

"In his defence, it was the first morning I wasn't 'happy go lucky' after mixing my DNA," Paul added as Jett looked at him in disbelief. "Oh yeah, I was a very different person right after I'd had it done."

"OK, please tell me there is video footage of this," Jett asked, amused at the thought.

"There are, but they are for science and Sick Bay purposes only and tucked away in his medical file," Hugh supplied.

"Damn, too bad," Jett shrugged, sipping her own drink, turning to Tilly. "Red, level with me, what was he like?"

Tilly tilted her head, thinking back to anything specific, "if anything he was just like a really happy drunk, always smiling, lots of hugging, which was weird and unexpected at first but then we just sorta got used to it, he said afterwards he didn't really remember much of his behaviour, if he had his way he'd have made Dr Culber delete the tape observations," Tilly told her and Hugh nodded his agreement before reminding her they were off-duty and she didn't have to call him that.

"Oh, so a bit like blackout drinking," Jett suggested.

"Yeah, I guess you could compare it to that," Tilly agreed.

"Hm," Jett laughed to herself, "blackout drinking, that takes me back to my time in and before the academy," she smiled to herself. "How 'bout you Red? Any nights you wish you remembered then regretted it upon finding out?" Tilly blushed, nodding, thinking of a few she knew of. "I'll share if you will," Jett said, curious to the mischief Tilly had gotten herself into.

"Can you first clarify what you mean by blackout drinking? Surely if you black out, that's it, night over," Michael said, yes, she had studied at Star Fleet, but she hadn't engaged in many of the social aspects, including the partying.

"Sure," Tilly smiled, "the best way I can think to describe it, is that when you're drinking, you drink so much that your brain goes to sleep but your body gets all 'Eye of the Tiger' and soldiers on through the night."

"May you never suffer the way some of us likely have," Jett added, raising her glass and looking around their group. "Now, Red, spill," she urged Tilly.

"Alright, so once, apparently, I was at this party, it was during my early time at the Academy, I was free of my mom's influence and I wasn't on a ship with my dad anymore," she explained. "So, when I lived with my mom, she would always take me to these fancy banquets and stuff to do with her job as an ambassador, and while I was there, from about 13 onwards, people would just put drinks in my hand and I would sip them and be fine," Tilly shrugged. "Fast forward to I think it was my first party a couple weeks in, I'd had a fair bit to drink, but as far as I was aware, I could drink some strong stuff and be OK. Boy was I wrong," she rolled her eyes, noticing that most of the group was now listening, she flushed pink again, "so at some point, late into the dorm party, I remember none of this, someone came out of someone's room with like an old antique style bottle and said '_hey, is this whiskey or perfume_?' According to my roommate, who didn't last very long afterwards, I grabbed it, drank all of it, said '_it's perfume'_ and just walked away," there were a few laughs from the group, "which is why I don't drink as much now," she added, smiling.

"That cannot have ended well for you," Paul said.

"Oh it didn't, I became very well acquainted with the bathroom, guessing by the way I woke up hugging the toilet. Alright, I shared, your turn," she said turning to face Jett, ready to listen.

"Alright, so when I was young, me and my friends would go to this bar in my University city, this was when I was a first year, so before I signed up to Fleet. We went for my friend's birthday and we went to the local gay bar, because that's where his party was. We were fresh out of High School, our loans hadn't come in yet, there were some delays in the paperwork, so money was tight, so to save we ordered a bottle of wine each, thinking, ah, yeah this will do us, this is what we would share on a night at home. The wine wasn't the mistake, getting some fresh air was. So, he had permission to get fresh air out the front, because he had really bad asthma and the smoking area was no good. I don't remember much other than I started holding onto the door, opening it for people as they were coming in and out of the bar and then I remember waking up at home. What I was told, was I tried doing the door-guy's job, and after I got sent back inside, we both ordered another bottle of wine," Jett continued telling them the details she had been told about that night, and others from her time at University. "Good times, I'm surprised I didn't get barred, I had a few wild and forgotten nights in that place," She remembered fondly, "OK, who's up?"

A few other people offered up their own stories, Gen Rhys, from the bridge crew, shared how he would wake up with a lot more money than he would go out with, and was usually confuse to how his bank account was unchanged, "because that means I made money," he said, "So, I'm thinking this means I exchanged goods and or services, for money," he laughed, "turns out that my buddy, who lived in a really rough part of town, only wanted his cab-money and then a little extra in case the driver robbed him, not uncommon, so he asked me to save his money. I was quite relieved." He explained, before allowing someone else to take a turn.

Keyla talked about a bar in her hometown that would have insane drink specials around the time she started going out with her friends. "Once, and oh, this was bad, they did 'nickel shot night.' And we were very likely underage. But back home, they didn't care, so, me and my friend tell our parents that we're sleeping over at each other's and agree with a third friend, who's parents were out of town to crash at theirs. The last thing I remember is pre-drinking at our friend's house, we shared a bottle of wine and then walked to the bar, too much fresh air. They let us in, because, well they just didn't care and then I woke up in my bedroom at home. I thought it was weird, but both my friends were there with me, we were all in my bed, there was cling-wrap covering the floors and several containers, probably in case we got sick. We had taken $15 between us, enough for a few shots and a taxi back. Emboldened by our pre-drinks, we started buying people drinks, used up all our money and I called my dad. He recorded our drunk conversation and played it us over breakfast," she shuddered at the memory, "needless to say, it was embarrassing."

"Were you guys in trouble?"

"No, my dad was OK with it, he figured if we were old enough to sneak into bars, we were old enough to suffer the consequences if we got caught and the hangovers that resulted. If I caught my kids doing that and they'd be grounded until they're 60 though." She added, getting laughs from the group.

After a few more stories, including Saru's first taste of Terran beverages, Hugh was up. "Alright, so there is one story I have," he said, sitting up fully so he wasn't leaning into Paul. "So when I was in high school, there was a kid in school who's parent was a teacher. And this guy was an asshole. He made me hate biology so much, of all subjects. So, one weekend, he and his wife went off-planet for a Xeno-biology conference and his kid, decided to throw a party at the teacher's house. And a lot of his old students must have hated him too, because from what happened, it seemed like everybody heard about it, decided to go over there and destroy the place.

"I got to this party and everybody I had ever known from all my years at high school were there, there were people who were on the Senior football team when I was a freshman, and everybody was drinking like it was the end of the world. They were drinking so much it was like it was the civil war and a Dr would be coming by to amputate limbs." Everyone was listening, "So, a few things I remember, in the basement, they had a pool table, one guy, the former quarterback I believe, took a running start, jumped onto it and broke it in half. Another guy, and this is awful, went upstairs, found out which room was our teachers, went in and took a shit in his personal laptop. Don't look at me like that, it wasn't me," he clarified, "basically, from a High Schoolers' standpoint, the party was going great.

"Later on, I'm in the basement with my friends from the swim team, and I could feel myself starting to blackout, but then someone said something like '_something something police'_ and in a brilliant moment of word association, my buddy yelled: "_fuck da Police_!" and everyone there, including me and I'm not especially proud of it, joined in. This officer comes to the bottom of the stairs, he's confused, because we're shouting with the confidence of like, people you see in stereotypical prison gangs on tv. I remember he leaned into his radio and said to get the wagon. And some guy grabbed a bottle, or a vase or something, smashed it on the ground and yelled '_Scatter!'_ So, I ran, I went through the laundry room, climbed up, out of a window, into their back yard, I ran to the back, there was a huge, chain link fence and I thought, '_I've never climbed a fence that high before_,' and then I woke up at home."

He paused, grinning, "on Monday, I went to school and he was there, he was pale, he was probably still suffering from what he'd had to drink, according to people I know, he had been so drunk he had no idea what people were doing to his house. He asked me if I'd been and I told him '_no'_ because my mom's friend worked at the school and I didn't want it getting back to her that I'd been, and he started telling me all the stuff that went down, and I remember he said, the worst thing as someone stole these old photos of his grandparents and his mom was freaking out about it. Now, I knew I would not have done that, probably, but I was never sure, until a couple of years later," he looked around the group, "relax guys, it's fine.

"A few years later, after I'd graduated, I'd decided to be a Dr by this point and was waiting to move at the end of the Summer for Med-School. I was playing videogames with my friend and he paused the game and said, '_I wanna show you something_.' He took me into this little side room, off of his bedroom, probably intended as a walk-in closet, and it's covered, wall to wall, in stolen photographs from various parties. I was like '_what the actual? Why_?' I just wanted to know, and he told me, '_because it's the one thing you can't replace_,' which I mean, that just messed with my head. He said he planned on just taking them back to the houses and leaving them in peoples mail boxes before college, but I always avoided letting him come to my parents place when we would meet up."

"Is that why you hid my family photos when we had our engagement party?" Paul asked, sometime later, back in their assigned shore-leave quarters, suspecting he already knew the answer.

"The very reason," Hugh confirmed, after his story, the evening had continued with stories from other people after Hugh and much laughter at people's youthful antics. "And no," he called through to where Paul was already brushing his teeth, "I won't tell you which of my friends it was," he teased, knowing Paul would be wondering, but also not wanting to ruin the friendship Paul shared with his friend.

"Was it, Mark?"

"Nope," Hugh said, squeezing toothpaste onto his brush.

"Tony." Hugh shook his head, "Alex?" Another shake, "are you just gonna say no to everyone I guess?" Hugh locked eyes with Paul, confirming all he needed to know. He continued to guess, as they got ready for bed, repeating some names, hoping to catch Hugh off-guard, but he never managed. "Lou?" He asked softly as they settled in their bed.

"Paul," Hugh said, leaning over and dropping a peck onto his lips, "leave it," he whispered lovingly.

Paul sighed, and kissed him back, "very well, goodnight, my Dear Doctor."

"Goodnight, my Dear Scientist."


End file.
